


On Reflection

by SpiritSails



Series: Felix [1]
Category: Felix the Cat (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 10:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19391809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritSails/pseuds/SpiritSails
Summary: Uncertain of his future in this big, big world, Felix finds the perfect way to figure it all out.





	On Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> All entities belong to their respective owners. Creative liberties are taken.

Planet: Earth. 

Time: An illusion. 

Place: A fine and dandy café in New York City. 

A small, black cat cradled his head in one hand while gripping a cinnamon latte in another. The small, black cat was half-heartedly committing himself to a conversation with a considerably larger orange cat.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean most of the time, it’s just a whole lot of noise,” the black cat said, his eyes glancing downward at the time on his phone.

The orange cat replies, “I like it! It really gets you in a good mood,” before taking a decidedly large sip from a mocha with a mountain of whipped cream on top. The sip left the larger cat with a patchy beard of whipped cream all over his face.

The black cat, looking downward at his phone, didn’t seem to notice or care about the display.  


He merely checked the time again, hoping half an hour had gone by in the last ten seconds, and said, “Yeah. Sure. Meow.”

The orange jerked his head toward his friend, “Did you just say ‘meow,’ Felix?”

Felix, the wonderful, wonderful cat, looked up, miming wiping whipped cream off his face. The orange cat doesn’t get the hint.

“I guess I did,” Felix shrugged before looking back down at his phone.

“Are you alright, Felix?” asked the orange cat, taking another big sip of his mocha, the whipped cream beard now matched with a whipped cream unibrow.

Felix sighed, hiding his phone. 

“I’m fine, Rosco. Just waiting until 3:30 rolls around. I gotta get home then.”

Rosco’s voice rose in concern, “Uh, why?”

Felix smiled a small smile at the change in tone, saying assuredly, “You said we’d meet here for an hour. After that, I got plans.”

The cheer in Rosco’s voice came back in full force. 

“Good! You know, Felix, when I get home, I’m gonna watch more _Wacky Punch Kids_. It’s good to know that kids have something fun to watch and that I can get a kick out of it too. Ya know?”

“Yeah, I know everything,” Felix muttered, right back on his phone.

Having fully lost the battle with his attention span, Felix checked the time. 3:15pm. So close, yet not even close.

Felix explored his thoughts, finding his true response to Rosco’s enthusiasm there.

_Rosco, buddy, I’m sorry, but_ Wacky Punch Kids _just doesn’t do it for me. It’s like an army of megaphones making duck noises at each other._

Felix shook his head for a moment, starting himself back into reality. From a fair distance, he heard lilting laughter from the other side of the café. Turning his head toward the source, he saw a pair of lady cats making idle chit chat about what Felix could decipher as museums around the city.

“Uh, Rosco, I’ll be right back.” Felix said, dropping his coffee cup, the container wobbling, nearly falling over if not for Rosco’s quick dive across the table.

Felix cleared his throat, stretching his arms real quick and shifting his expression to one of immense interest as he approached the lady cats.

“Olivia,” one lady cat said to the other, “You _have_ to take an online tour of it. So many beautiful paintings, and you don’t have to deal with the crowd!”

Felix knew he had an in, and he went for it.  


“Well, hey there, ladies. I was wondering if either of you have been to–”  


“Nope!”  


Felix took a step back.

“I'm sorry?”  


The cats at the table took their turns shaking their heads before one chimed in, “Cheesy smile and that little… wiggle you did before walking up here? No, thanks. See ya!”

Felix would have fallen over right then if his tail had not caught and supported him. Before the cat could embarrass himself any more, his tail, with a mind of its own, crawled like a caterpillar back to Felix’s table.

During his crawl of shame, Felix heard the girls speak amongst themselves.

“Monique, I swear, I’ve never seen a man so obvious before.”

  
  
“It would be cute if it wasn't so sad.”

When Felix got back to his table, his tail catapulted him back onto his seat, back first. Felix didn’t bother to sit up.

He spoke with wide eyes, “They didn’t even give me a chance.”

  
“C'mon, Felix,” Rosco said with a concerned tone of voice Felix had become quite familiar with lately, “Not every girl's gonna be interested.”

  
Felix sat up and tapped his paws on the table. 

“Yeah, sure, Rosco, but lately I've just been striking out with everyone.”  


Rosco patted Felix on the shoulder. Felix squinted and scowled at that.

“D'awww, Felix. Maybe you just gotta try something different. My uncle did speed dating. That's how he met his girlfriend.”

  
“Speed dating? That's still a thing?!” Felix asked, sounding almost shocked.

  
  
“Sure!” Rosco continued, “You go to a nice room and you go around tables and talk to girls for a few minutes and if you like her and she likes you, after it's all over, you get her phone number!”

  
  
Felix tilted his head, “And you're sure it was your _uncle_ who did this?”

  
  
Rosco put his finger to his chin, “I mean, I did it too, but didn't really meet anyone. Gee, I’d love to meet anyone, Felix…”

Felix sighed, pulling his head back, the small, black cat just about feeling his soul escape his body before deciding to the change the subject.

  
  
“I'm a young cat. Right, Rosco?”

  
Rosco sounded shocked. 

“You're 100 years old, Felix!”

  
  
Felix scowled, “Well, I don’t look it. And I have a lot going on! I can play the accordion, I can dance, I have great taste in food, I’m tough, I'm humble… I got it all!”

  
  
“Maybe you just gotta start over.”

  
“…What?”

Rosco looked Felix right in the eyes, a look on his face that would be serious if he didn’t also sound completely confused. 

“If you got it all, Felix, maybe you just gotta try having less going on? You might be too many things, is all. Have you thought anything about what you’ve been doing lately?”  


Felix thought back on the last three afternoons he spent. In his apartment. Alone. Eating pizza and listening to old jazz music. With his phone on silent to block out the outside world.  


“Nothing I can admit to right now…”  


Rosco went back to being concerned, “We haven’t even hung out as much as we used to, Felix. Maybe you just have to rethink everything that makes Felix the Cat!”

Barely above a whisper, Felix derided, “Well, that sounds easy enough.”

But sure enough, Rosco’s surprisingly insightful commentary left Felix with little else to think about. After he left the café to commit himself to another afternoon of jazz music and pizza back at his place, he soon found himself lost in Rosco’s words.

Felix thought long and hard as he kicked an empty soda can ever so slightly to the left of his trash can, where it met a small hill of other empty soda cans.

_How can a cat who sits around doing nothing have too much going on?_ _It’s not like I’m trying to figure out world peace here. Really, lately, I haven’t had much going on at all. It’s just been me doing what feels good._

Felix’s eyes went wide as he dug his claws into the arms of his recliner.

_And why is that… ?_

With that thought, it wasn’t long until the cat found himself amongst the company of…  


“Poindexter, I need your help!” Felix yelled, slamming open the door to a laboratory just outside of the city, a harsh light falling upon the back of a pale kid with a beady eyes and a game controller in his hands.  


The little hat perched upon Poindexter’s head shot up into the air as the kid found himself back into the real world. That didn’t mean he bothered to take his eyes off of what was going on with the thirty feet tall television screen before him, however.

“Mr. Felix!” said Poindexter, a strange mix of excited and distracted, “Certainly, I could use a break from _Ouch Knight 3_ .”  


Felix closed the door behind him.

“You play _Ouch Knight_ , Poindexter? Aren't those games kinda hard?”  


“And how, Mr. Felix! In the past fifteen seconds, I've already died forty… forty-one times just talking to you.”

Something about the dark and gritty, yet fantastical environment on the giant display unnerved Felix so. Thankfully it wasn’t long before a fiery, skeletal enemy poked Poindexter’s character on the forehead and sent him tumbling over the edge of a cliff, with a friendly reminder that Poindexter died popping up on the screen.

“Agh! Every time!” the kid genius yelled.

Poindexter finally turned around.

“Anyway, Mr. Felix, how can I help you?”  


Felix put his hands on his hips, striking a dramatic pose.

“I want to know who I am.”

At this statement, Poindexter very quickly started rubbing Felix’s head with a shaky hand, a magnifying glass scanning along the cat’s fuzzy scalp.  


Felix needed a couple moments to realize what Poindexter was doing. 

“What’s going on, Pointy?”  


Poindexter sounded just as concerned as Rosco. 

“Making sure you've not suffered any serious memory-altering blows to the head.”  


“We're not desperate enough for an amnesia plot yet, Poindexter,” Felix said, exasperated.  


“Thank goodness!” exclaimed Poindexter, “Then you must have meant that in the character establishing pilot episode sense.”

  
Felix nodded, “Yeah, but cooler and less obvious than that.”  


Poindexter ran off toward a distant hallway, beckoning the cat to join him.

“Follow me, Mr. Felix! You will be the first test subject for my latest invention!”

Soon Felix found himself next to Poindexter jumping with glee and a rather… familiar-looking object.  


“It looks like something out of a hairdresser's,” said Felix, scratching his head.  


“It _is_ something out of a hairdresser’s,” Poindexter chirped.  


“This looks like a hair drying chair from a hair salon.”  


“It _is_ a hair drying chair from a hair salon. I'm renting it. I cut hair to make ends meet, Felix. Sometimes you need two jobs.”

“Okay, yeah. So where’s the invention?

“It’s right _here_ ,” said Poindexter, pointing at a very similar looking chair with a very similar looking device.

Felix looked upon the device with a slight frown.

Poindexter paid no mind to Felix’s temperament as he found himself in full genius presentation mode.

“Presenting: The M.I.R.R.O.R. Machine! It takes your past memories and turns them into wonderful images that dazzle your imagination with marvelous introspection.”

As if hearing the kid genius’ words, the M.I.R.R.O.R. Machine sparkled and shined under the lab’s fluorescent lights.

Felix’s mouth hung open.

“Whoa, Pointy, this is exactly what I needed! And you _just_ made this?”

Poindexter traced his foot along the floor.

“I mean, I might have thought it up after a passing conversation with one of our shared friends…”

“Rosco, c’mon!” Felix yelled at the ceiling.

Poindexter ushered Felix toward the chair.

“Take a seat, Mr. Felix. It won’t be long before introspection commences.”

Felix sat down on the chair, the dryer-looking device soon thwacking against the top of his noggin.

“OW!”

Poindexter began tapping away at buttons on a panel nearby the machine.

“Calibrating central nervous system feedback loop. Starting up thought-to-image-to-action orientation. And _presto!”_

Felix sat there for a moment. Nothing quite really coming to view. Just darkness. Deep, deep darkness.

“Do you see anything, Mr. Felix?” Poindexter said, turning his head toward the machine.

If Poindexter could see Felix’s face under all the machinery, he would see a very unhappy cat.

“Nope! Are you sure this isn’t another hair chair, Pointy?! Maybe you should have tried this thing out yourself before you– OH MY GOD. No! No!”

“What is it, Mr. Felix?” Poindexter said as he turned toward a small display that raised from the panel. 

“Mr. Felix, I don’t see– OH MY GOODNESS. It’s alive. It’s alive! Why is it alive?”

Before the cat and the kid genius was a very, very ugly looking doll. It was a doll that one would, if one were to have a degree in marketing or happened to be a staunch capitalist, would say bore a resemblance to Felix.

“Why is it _dancing_ , Mr. Felix?!” screamed Poindexter, his small hands not quite covering his beady eyes, unable to entirely look away.

Felix caught his breath.

“It’s alright, Pointy. Just some of my old merchandise.”

Poindexter calmed down just a bit, his hands now at the panel.

“Did people really buy those dolls, Mr. Felix?”  


“Oh yeah,” Felix said, “You weren't around back then. Heck yeah, they did. Too many of them.”

At that, Felix once more found himself in darkness.

“It’s dark again, Poindexter.”

“Well,” said the kid genius, “We went over that memory quite quickly. I hit the **Next** button. Remember, Mr. Felix, think fully about your past. What memories define you?”

Felix shifted his weight in the chair, his tail wrapping around one of his legs.  


“Alright, Felix… let's really dig in deep here. Who are you, really?”

Felix gasped as a duo of familiar faces came into view: Two little, black cats playing leapfrog under a tree with a tire swing.

“Aw, the little guys!” Felix smiled wide.

Poindexter donned the same smile, sharing in the universal delight of kittens at play.

“They look so much like you, Mr. Felix.”

Felix flicked his tail.

“They look more like my sister, actually. I used to babysit for her kids a lot back then. I should check in with her sometime soon. Little Inky and Winky must miss Uncle Felix.

Felix held back a tear, rubbing his arm as he stared upon the scene.

“ **Next.** ”

“Hey, Pointy, wait!”  


“ _Sound?! In a Felix cartoon? Sounds like a load of phooey and a big waste of money to me.”_

Poindexter, met the sight of an angry man in rather drab looking office, gasped, “No sound?! That sounds rather foolish, don’t you think, Mr. Felix? Who said that?”

For this question, Felix yielded no response for nearly ten seconds.

“Mr. Felix?!”  


“Sorry, yeah,” Felix grumbled. “I was thinking about how I made so many jerks lots of money.”  


Poindexter sighed, “It is rather unfortunate, isn’t it? What did you think about that whole _sound_ issue at the time?”

Felix tilted his head under the machinery, hurting himself again. He rubbed his head against the side of the giant dome before he continued.

“Ugh, I didn’t think much of it at all at the time. I was just living in the moment, happy to keep making good cartoons for good people.”

“I’d say it’s time for the next memory,” Poindexter said as he pushed the button.

“Already? Alright, yeah. I’d rather leave this whole thing,” said Felix, sounding just about as done as network television.

Felix was next met with the shockingly blasé sight of him walking down a rural pathway.

“What is this, Mr. Felix?”

“Well, we tried sound. It didn’t go over well. I stuck around in comics for a few years, and then we did this.”

“Look, Mr. Felix, it’s your Bag of Tricks™!” Poindexter yelled, making Felix squirm in his seat.

“Whatever happened to that bag, Mr. Felix?” asked Poindexter, wistful.

“Well, I’ve not gone on a lot of adventures lately, so it’s been in storage,” answered Felix for the hundredth person to ask him that.

“So it took you _that long_ to get that bag, Mr. Felix?”

“What can I say? I can take care of myself pretty well too. I'm cute. I'm charming. Sure, I might not have much work right now, but I can live off residuals like a pro. I got this.”

As Felix went on, Poindexter was on the phone.

“Ms. Monique, I can schedule you for a 5:00pm styling, but I can't go any later than that. I'm sorry, but even fashion geniuses need to eat dinner too.”

Felix shot up, slamming his head against the dome again.

“AGH! Moving on, Poindexter.”

“Oh! Yes. One moment, ma’am. I’m with a friend. Yes, your business is _very_ important to me. Just a moment.”

As Poindexter pressed the **Next** button, the M.I.R.R.O.R. Machine began to spark, making a series of rather concerning noises that resembled a cross between chipmunk schreeces and car alarms.

“Pointy, what’s happening?!”

“Oh dear!”

“POINTY!”

“Mr. Felix, it appears the blunt force trauma you’ve experienced while under the M.I.R.R.O.R. Machine damaged the M.I.R.R.O.R. Machine far more than it did your cranium.”

“…So what’s that mean for me, Pointy?!”

“We’re about to find out!!!”

Felix and Poindexter’s screams drowned out the sounds of the M.I.R.R.O.R. Machine in a cacophony that lasted for all of thirty seconds.

And then everything went silent.

Felix found himself under a metal dome. Well, a bigger one. He felt straw under his feet and heard a few little critters that looked to be a species that was half lizard and half mouse scurrying along the floor.

“Oh no… OH NO!” Felix screamed, hands on his head.

Poindexter gasped, “Oh dear! This place… the _other dimension_.”

Felix would have been shaking Poindexter by the shoulders right then if he could.

“Poindexter, this isn’t right! I’m not just seeing this. It feels like I’m actually here.”

The kid genius tapped away at buttons as fast as he could.

“Whatever you do, Mr. Felix, don’t try to take off the device. There’s no telling what kind of damage it could cause your psyche.”

“Like it hasn’t done enough already,” Felix grumbled.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Felix. I’ll get you out as fast as I can.”

Before Felix could make another quip, Felix heard the sound of metal a door on the side of the dome opening up. Thinking fast, he jumped under a nearby wooden bed, waiting to hear the door close again.

When it did, Felix snuck his head out from under his hiding spot, only to see himself.

“Not here again!” Felix’s double said to no one in particular, “This is getting to become a habit.”

Felix looked up at his double.

“Hey, friend,” he whispered.

Felix’s double looked around for the source of the familiar voice, only to share the same shocked expression the original Felix had on his face just moments again.

  
The double smiled, “Well, righty-o!”

The original scowled, “Hey, that’s _my_ thing!”

“Well, then it’s my thing too,” the double said with his hands on his hips.

“Oh,” the original Felix thought, “Well, yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” asked the double.

The original Felix sighed, “Do you have any idea what’s going on here?”

The double shrugged, “No, I’m just kinda going with the flow.”

Original Felix stuck out his tongue. 

“This all seems like a waste of time to me. How’s it going out there, Pointy?”

No response.

“Poindexter?!”

Poindexter was once again on the phone.

“Yes, Ms. Monique, I’m sorry I sent your nephew on a feature length extravaganza of self-discovery. It was _my_ mix up, but that doesn’t exactly constitute a discount, does it? Well, _I_ don’t think it does."

Original Felix sighed as he looked over at the Felix Double, who looked to be sizing up Original Felix as if he were a car that just crashed.

Original Felix sighed.

“What do you need, friend?” he asked, submitting himself to the torture.

“You seem confused, me. I know we just met… or, well… anyway. Why so glum, chum?”

Original Felix crossed his arms.

“Other than the fact that I’m trapped here with myself because I thought it would be a good idea to sit under an untested machine specifically designed to mess with _my_ head? No reason.”

“No,” the Felix Double said, stepping closer, “There’s more to it than that. You seem like there’s something in you that’s getting to you. Hurting you. Deeply.”

Original Felix sat down on the wooden bed, rubbing his head.

The Felix Double continued, “I never thought I’d see myself this sad. Funny thing, really. I’ve just ended up in another dimension, so far away from home, and _this_ is bothering me more.”

Original Felix smirked at his double’s words, moving to the side as his double sat next to him on the bed.

“What’s on your mind? Really?” Asked the Felix Double, a look of concern in his eyes.

Original Felix’s jaw dropped. Seeing that look on Rosco and Poindexter was one thing. Seeing it on himself?

“Well,” Original Felix began, “I guess I’ve just been feeling lost.”

“You and me both!” the Felix Double laughed.

“No, not quite like that,” Original Felix began as he stared at the straw on the floor, watching one of the critters dance with another.

“I’ve just been trying to figure out why… why I do any of this.”

The Felix Double kept his eyes on himself.

“Do what?”

“Why do I bother existing? Why am I even around? Who needs me?”

The Felix Double pulled Original Felix into a tight hug.

“Whoa!” shouted Original Felix, who sat there with wide eyes for a few moments before he eventually reciprocated the hug.

After the two Felixes finished hugging, the Felix Double stood up off the bed, and started pacing, arms behind his back, face pulled into a scowl. After doing this for another few moments, he suddenly stopped, right index finger extended as an exclamation mark flashed above his head.

“Felix!” shouted the double.

“How do you know my name?” asked the original, sticking out his tongue.

“No, Felix,” said the Felix Double, quite serious, “What do _you_ think is the reason you’re here?”

“What?!” Original Felix shouted, standing up himself, “I just said I didn’t know!”

“Well…” the Felix Double began, “Give me your best answer.”

Original Felix stared at the floor, as if his answer was somewhere down there.

“I guess… I just want to be happy,” Original Felix answered, staring deeply at the floor, afraid to look up, lest his answer displease.

“Is that it?” Asked the Felix Double.

“Yeah,” said the original, “All I’ve ever wanted is to be happy and to keep good people from being unhappy.”

“Well, Felix,” asked the double, “Do you think you’re happy?”

“I’d like to be.”

“Why’s that?”

The original shot his arms up in exasperation.

“I mean, sure, who wouldn’t want to be happy?”

“Well,” the Felix Double began, tapping his chin, “What’s so special about being happy?”

Original Felix once more met his double’s gaze.

“It’s like… the best thing to be? It’s better than being sad, at least.”

The Felix Double stepped closer, a small smile on his face.

“Now, why is that? What makes being happy the ultimate end goal here? Why would you want to never be sad? Or angry? Or scared?”

Original Felix stood there with his arms folded and his hands behind his head. He shrugged, lightly tapping the back of his head against his hands in a wondrous show of aloofness.

“Because it sucks to be those other things.”

“Well, maybe it doesn’t.”

The cat sighed a sigh of sighs.

“Well… elaborate already.”

The Felix Double watched this other Felix standing there. Bags under his eyes, a chronic impatience to his voice. The double wondered: Was this who he was too, or who he was going to be? …Unless he did something.

“Being sad or angry or scared is no different from being happy,” said the Felix Double, “No matter how you feel, you’re still you. You’re still being you. To be happy, as with any other emotion, is to merely continue existing.”

“So?”

Please note that ‘o’ in the previous question asked by Original Felix is elongated between ten to thirteen times.

The Felix Double looked square into the eyes of Original Felix, his gaze deep.

“So the real goal, then, is to keep living. Rather than trying to be happy all the time, maybe you should try being yourself. Let life happen, Felix. Don’t try to control it.”

Original Felix stood there, watching himself, taking in every word, hanging on every letter.

“Mr. Felix!” shouted Poindexter, pulling Original Felix from his pocket of thought.

“Poindexter?!”

“Oh, thank goodness, Mr. Felix. I was worried you were lost there. I’ll get you out in just a moment.”

Felix paused.

“Mr. Felix?!”

“Sounds good, Pointy,” said Felix, barely above a whisper.

Original Felix looked to his double.

“Hey, I gotta go. Uh…”

The Felix Double gave Original Felix another hug. In that moment, Original Felix could swear the little critters were hugging his ankles too.

Then he felt nothing. All was dark again. All was silent.

All was silent until he heard the sound of grinding metal as Poindexter used a can opener to pry Felix from the M.I.R.R.O.R. Machine. Felix gasped for air as he shot a surprised look up at Poindexter.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Felix?” asked Poindexter, a sheepish blush on his face.

Felix pulled Poindexter into a tight hug, the kid genius falling to the floor when the cat let him go.

“Oh my…” said Poindexter, dizzy as can be.

“Oh, hey, sorry Pointy,” said Felix, helping the genius back up to his feet.

Poindexter dusted himself off.

“No hard feelings then, Mr. Felix?”

Felix smiled, giving Poindexter a friendly slap on the back.

“None at all, Pointy. It was nice working with you. Anyway, I gotta go. I gotta go see Rosco about something.”

“That’s great! It was nice to see you too, Felix.” 

Smiling, Felix started toward the door.

“Uh, hey,” began Poindexter.

Felix turned around.

“Before you go, can you do me a favor and leave a good review for my salon? I’m a little worried I have a bad review coming my way soon,” said Poindexter, stuttering through his words.

Felix kept on walking.  
  
When Felix got out of the lab, he gave Rosco a call. Rosco was surprised when Felix invited him out to a deli for some dinner.

“Gee, Felix, I guess you _were_ hungry,” Rosco said as he watched the small, back cat scarf down a tuna sandwich twice his size.

“Hey, what can I say?” Felix said with his mouth full.

Felix swallowed before he spoke again.

“I’ve been doing some hungry work.”

Rosco took a sip of a fresh mocha, the whipped cream shaping around his face into a goatee and curly mustache.

“I’m sorry for talking about you behind your back, Felix.”

Felix handed Rosco a napkin.

“Hey, you were just trying to help.”

“Are you feeling better now then, Felix?”

Felix smiled wide.

“Yep! I’m gonna keep doing what I do, and not worry so much about how I’m supposed to feel about it.”

“Gee, Felix, that sounds hard, but I bet you could do it.”

Rosco rubbed his face with the napkin, somehow leaving him with a bigger, curlier mustache.

Felix laughed at the scene for a good minute, not too loud, but loud enough and with enough mirth to catch the attention of a little, white lady cat from across the room. The lady cat smiled at Felix and Rosco, which caught Felix’s attention just the same.

“Hey, Rosco.”

“Yeah, Felix?”

Felix stood up.

“I’ll be right back.”

Felix walked up to the white cat, a small smile draped across his face, the feeling that came with the expression guiding his movements and words.

Felix stood by the lady cat.

“Heya, how are you? I was wondering–”

“My name’s Felicity,” said the little, white cat as she poked at her glass of soda.

“Nice to meet you, Felicity,” said Felix as he bowed his head.

“I couldn’t help but notice your friend there…” said Felicity as she trailed off, eyeing the orange cat as he licked his lips, eyes wide in confusion.

“Oh, Rosco? He–”

“Rosco? What a nice name,” Felicity sighed.

Felix stood there for a moment until something clicked in his brain. He looked back to make sure his friend wasn’t looking.

“Well, Felicity, let me tell you all about him.”


End file.
